


Te Amo Tequila

by wintersoldier1989



Series: Evanstan [2]
Category: Actor RPF, Evanstan - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 07:35:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18464410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersoldier1989/pseuds/wintersoldier1989
Summary: On the set of Civil War, undisclosed feelings between Sebastian and Chris are at an all-time high.





	Te Amo Tequila

_**Sebastian** _

Renner passed me another shot of tequila and wedge of lime.

“Bottom’s up, brother,” Renner said patting my back as he joined me, Rudd and Scarlett at one of the many tables set up at what was affectionately called _the Downey Compound_ on set. He had a trailer park’s worth of rigs set up in his own very section. Downey had brought in a couple local food trucks for the cast and crew to enjoy a late dinner after they had wrapped for the day. With an early call time in the morning, everyone was quite enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. 

The tequila had been Renner’s idea, with heavy pours from both him and Mackie.

“I see you fellas are enjoying yourselves,” Downey said making his way over to our small group with Chris. 

“Sure are,” Renner agreed on behalf of the group. “The tacos are top-notch, man. Go great with the Patrón,” he signalled a big thumbs up. 

“Well that counts me out,” Downey said. “I’m going to go see what kind of trouble Cheadle and Boseman are getting into.” 

“You want one, Evans?” Mackie said holding out a shot glass.

Chris hesitated. 

“I’ve already had a couple beers with Bettany and Lizzie. Bettany brought some imported craft varieties from back from England,” he said by way of explanation.

“Well, I’m tapping out fellas,” Scarlett said as she rose from her chair. “Gotta go say goodnight to my daughter. Plus I think Evans here will be more than happy to drink my share.” She said encouraging her friend to take her seat, effectively making the decision for him.

Chris sat down next to me and took the full shot glass from Mackie.

I stiffened subtly at the proximity of Chris’ body to mine.

Chris looked over to me and asked “How many of these they make you do so far?”

“Two,” I replied, my reply uncharacteristically short but not unfriendly, my insides coiling tighter.

“Guess I better catch up,” Chris said tossing back two shots in quick succession. “Woo, that’s the smooth stuff.” He slapped his knee as he swallowed.

I forced a smile on my face, trying my best to give the impression that everything was fine. But the reality was, being this close to him was becoming too much for me. I ran my hands over the denim of my jeans, part nervous habit and part in attempt to dry my sweaty palms.

Chris turned his body to face mine.

“You two really killed it today,” Chris said referring my and Mackie’s scenes in the airport fight. 

My heart swelled at his words. That’s the thing about Chris Evans. When you have his attention he makes you feel like there’s no one else in the world. It’s just you and him. I’d seen many girls swoon and fall under his captivating charm over the years and I swear Chris was oblivious to his effect on people.

“Thanks man, do me a favor though and keep that from Mackie, we’ll all suffocate if his ego gets any bigger,” I replied. 

“What’s that Seabass? You talking about me?” Mackie bellowed, his volume ear shattering once he had a couple drinks.

“Nah, Mackie. You just worry about pouring the drinks,” I shouted back.

 

We’d all been friends for so long that it was hard to break from our usual banter. Easy was how it always was between us, but now I resented it, because nothing about how I felt about Chris was easy.

And that ladies and gentleman is the _Chris Evans Effect._

“Will do, definitely don’t want to add fuel to that fire,” Chris giggled in agreement to my request. 

I could feel myself being sucked into his warm gaze as I laughed along with him. My heart swooning of its own accord, completely disregarding my brains current message to get the hell out of here before I said or did something I’d definitely regret. 

“So, how’s your girl?” Chris asked. And I knew he wasn’t just asking for the sake of making conversation, he genuinely cared. He always checked in and asked about the cast and crew’s friends and family.

“She’s good.” I answered, keeping my answer brief. My guilty conscience making itself known at every available opportunity. 

I grabbed the tequila bottle sitting in front of Mackie and poured myself another shot in hopes of silencing the voice in the back of my head with alcohol. If I was smarter, I’d take the bottle with me back to my trailer where I could wallow in privacy, instead of sitting next to the source of my inner turmoil.

“Another round, already?” Chris asked. I shrugged and offered him the bottle, not wanting to be a complete heel by hogging the rest for myself.

“I thought a Boston boy could hold his own?” Mackie interjected mockingly from the other side of the table. “We’re in the south now, Boston. Try and keep up.”

Not one to back away from a challenge, Chris downed two more shots in quick succession. My eyes were glued to the movement of his mouth and neck as he swallowed. I wanted to place kisses on that warm skin.

_Stop. You’re just going to keep digging yourself a deeper hole with thoughts like those._

I began to realize there was no chance of drowning out my guilt. I was in too deep and right now, I was sitting far too close.

“I gotta go.” I jumped up from my seat and began to walk from the table without any further explanation.

“Where you going, Seb? Everything okay?” Chris asked worry in his expression. 

_Fuck he’s such a good guy. Unlike you._

“I gotta got call my girl, I told her I’d call before 10 and my phone’s back in my trailer.” I explained still backing away. My body subconsciously moving faster in hopes of being able to relax once I put enough space between me and Chris.

“Yeah man, of course. Say hi to her for me.” I heard him call from where he still sat at the table with Renner, Rudd and Mackie.

I walked briskly back towards my trailer, in a desperate attempt to clear my mind and get some fucking perspective. 

“I’m so fucking delusional.” I muttered under my breath. “I have a fucking _girlfriend._ ” 

Being back in close quarters with Chris was messing with me. Gone were the lies and truths I had told myself back in New York. 

_It’s just a crush._ Lie.

 _You’ll fuck up a great friendship._ Truth.

 _You’re happy with your girlfriend._ Lie.

 _He’s straight._ Truth.

Each statement was a weak attempt to convince myself that I could get over my feelings for him. 

I made it back to my trailer and face planted on to the bed, the exhaustion of my thoughts taking a toll on my body. How the fuck was I going to get through this whole shoot? I groaned in defeat and chuckled at the irony. I was going to be spending long days on set acting next to Chris Evans.

Acting like I wasn’t in love with him. 

***

_**Chris** _

Man, I was definitely feeling the effects of all the alcohol I’d had tonight. Note to self: Beer and tequila isn’t the best combination.

I was pretty sure my current disorientation wasn’t solely due to the booze but also Sebastian’s abrupt departure from the hangout. I looked over to Renner with a look of “ _What was that about?”_ on my face, but he just shrugged. 

Mackie interjected, “You know our Seabass, Evans. He’s probably just a little moody because he hasn’t seen his girl in a while. He’ll be as good as new tomorrow, if you know what I mean!” His brow wagged in that teasing way that was quintessentially Mackie.

But Mackie’s drunken cackles didn’t do anything to ease my worry. In fact, my stomach lurched.

I’d been hoping to catch up with Seb. We’d spent some time together on set today, but any conversation between takes had been about work. We both took our jobs seriously and didn’t want to waste anybody’s time.

I lifted myself out of the chair and gave a quick nod to the guys. “I think I’m going call it a night, all this liquor has done me in.” 

“And just like that, the Patriots throw in the towel and the Saints take the title!” Mackie cheers. 

“Ha ha. Yeah Mackie, you win,” I said. 

“More for us!” Renner chortled pouring another round.

“See you tomorrow, Evans,” Rudd said and I waved goodbye. 

As I left the Downey Compound, I quickly realized I was in fact more than buzzed. I could feel my body sway and I struggled to keep myself upright and mobile.

I came to the section of the lot that housed my trailer. I had been planning to drive myself back to my rental tonight, but that had been before the countless shots of tequila. There was no way I was driving anywhere now. 

The lights from Seb’s trailer caught my eye. I would’ve figured he would’ve been gone by now. Back at his hotel and on the phone with his girlfriend, having phone sex or whatever it was Mackie had alluded to. 

Curiosity and concern filled my mind. There was obviously something bothering Sebastian. The way he had hastily fled from the group only moments after I had arrived. The conversation between us feeling awkward and contrived. That didn’t sit well with me. Sebastian Stan was one of my best friends, if something was wrong, I had to help. 

I could feel my mind fill with panic, unable to stop the flood of irrational possibilities. The alcohol fuelling the quest to my destination. 

My feet carried me to his trailer door, where I knocked in loud bursts.

“Seb! Are you there?” I called. “Sebastian!” I shouted a second time, the desperation creeping into my voice.

The door to the trailer opened. Sebastian’s weary and sleep filled eyes met mine. I can only assume I looked a little worse for wear myself. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked. The tone in his voice told me he wasn’t thrilled to see me on his doorstep.

Silence hung between us.

_Why was I here again? This was a terrible idea, I should go._

“Chris?” Sebastian’s mind brought me back to the present.

“Oh. Uh, I just noticed that you left pretty quickly and I wanted to make sure you’re doing okay,” I said hoping most of my words were coming out clearer than the buzzing thoughts in my head.

_Something’s wrong and you need to fix it._

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Sebastian replied, unconvincingly. “Are you sure _you’re_ okay?”

Sebastian was a phenomenal actor but I knew his tell. It’s what made him so easy to beat at poker. 

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“It’s just that you’re looking a little green.”

As he said the words, a wave of nausea rolled through me, my body shuddering.

“Oh fuck,” I said, my stomach lurching.

“Jesus, get in here,” Sebastian moved out of the doorway, making a path for me to rush by and get to the bathroom.

I knelt on the floor the cramped space, my feet hitting the wall behind me. With my head hanging over the toilet bowl, my stomach violently emptied its contents. I heaved a couple more times, trying to breath through the nausea.

With nothing left to come up, I flushed, washed up and rinsed my mouth at the sink.

“There’s a new toothbrush in the drawer,” Sebastian called from the kitchen area not more than a few paces away from where I had tossed my cookies.

“Thanks,” I replied feeling grateful. With my body relieved from the nausea, I made quick work of brushing my teeth while the embarrassment of what had just happened reeled in my mind.

_God, Chris you’re such an idiot. Instead of helping the guy, you gave him a front row seat to your latest production, Losing My Lunch._

I exited the bathroom, my cheeks flushed in humiliation, which was a slight improvement to the green I had been wearing when I entered.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

“No need to apologize, I’ve been there,” he reassured with a small smile on his face.

“I’m gonna go, I’ve inconvenienced you enough for one evening,” I started to make my way to the door.

“Take a seat, Evans. You need to take a breath and I don’t want to be held responsible if they find your dead body laying outside of a trailer in the morning.” Sebastian placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me around.

I chuckled at his attempt to ease my guilt.

“I’m going to make you some ginger tea. My mom always made it for me whenever I would feel sick to my stomach when I was little.” 

“You don’t have to,” I contested.

“I want to,” he replied. “My mom will be thrilled to know that her remedies are helping someone, especially you.”

“Okay. I don’t want to disappoint Mama Stan,” I said. Seb’s mom was the cutest. He’d been so embarrassed when we first met back in the day.

“You gotta take it easy there next time,” Sebastian advised. “Don’t try to keep up with Mackie. It’s a lost cause.” 

“That would’ve been helpful information an hour ago,” I agreed. “But I don’t think the beers helped any, either.”

“You know what they say, beer before liquor, never been sicker,” he singsonged.

I couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped me. Sebastian placed a steaming mug of tea on the table in front of where I sat and took a seat across from me.

I lifted the mug to my lips and took a tentative sip of the hot liquid, the flavor was spicy and warm, very comforting. _“_ Mmmmm,” I moaned, my eyes drifting closed.

“I see the tea’s already working it’s magic,” he commented, his voice tight.

“Definitely. Do you happen to have any secret Romanian cures for embarrassment?” I inquired, trying once again to apologize for my rude intrusion on his personal space.

“Don’t worry about it, Chris. Really it’s not a problem.” Sebastian’s eyes avoided meeting mine. The awkward tension from earlier tonight returning between us.

I hesitated to say anything, the last thing I wanted to do was make Sebastian feel more uncomfortable.

Being in control was my strong suit. But in this instance I couldn’t help myself, the words escaping before my mouth could close.

“Is everything ok?” I asked. “Because the way you ran out of Downey’s place like a bat out of hell, makes me think maybe you weren’t headed back here just to make a phone call.”

Seb’s face scrunched in that awkward way, when your facial muscles betray you by displaying your innermost turmoil. 

_I guess I’m onto something here._

“Is it something about work?” I pressed, because I’m a pushy asshole.

“No, work’s fine,” he supplied, back to his clipped responses.

“Things alright between you and your girl?” I ventured. I’d definitely had relationship problems of my own, so I hoped maybe I could offer one of my best friends some advice.

“Yeah, we’ve been arguing lately. She’s still having trouble with the distance,” he confessed. But something nagged at me, that he wasn’t giving me the whole story.

“You guys will work it out,” I offered. “The distance is tough. Maybe you can invite her down next week. I’ll be in Savannah for _Gifted_ pick-ups, so you two are welcome to stay at my rental.”

Seb’s eyes went wide at my suggestion. “No, no. That’s way too generous, man. She’s on location too, so it’ll be awhile before we see each other anyway, but thanks for the offer.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” I said.

“It’s life,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders, looking defeated.

“Well if you ever wanna come down and stay with me, you’re more than welcome. We could always hit a couple rounds on the golf course and have a couple drinks, maybe a little less tequila,” I joked. “Get in some good ol’ quality time.” 

I lifted the mug in my hands and took another sip of Seb’s soothing ginger tea. My eyes locking with his blue ones. I could feel my pulse quicken at the thought of spending time alone with him. Just us, no other distraction from work, life or _girlfriends._ My cheeks warmed but not from the hot tea, the look on Sebastian’s face was pensive yet lighthearted, like he was caught in a daydream, maybe thinking about taking me up on my offer. And to be honest I really hoped he would. 

“Just think about it, I’d really love to have you,” my verbal diarrhea supplied before I could shut my big mouth.

Alarm shot through my system. _Quality time?_ _Love to have you?_ Why the fuck were my brain and mouth completely malfunctioning tonight. _Could be all that tequila, asshole._

I had to get out of here before I verbalized anymore of my wishful thinking, possibly saying something that I couldn’t take back. What exactly had I planned to accomplish by coming here tonight, drunk as a skunk? I’d told myself it was to _help_ Sebastian, but who was I kidding, I’d clearly come to advance my own personal agenda. I hastily chugged the remaining tea, the heat burning my mouth, the liquid threatening to make its way back up out my nose.

“Shit man, are you ok? Are you going to be sick again?” Sebastian asked, genuine concern warming his tone as I struggled to swallow.

 _“_ No, no. I’m good,” I breathed through a couple short coughs. “But, I should go, I don’t want to risk defiling your bathroom a second time,” I joked, glad to have my recent bout of nausea as a convenient cover.

We both rose from our spots at the table and I made my way to the screen door. 

“See you tomorrow?” I asked as I made my way out the door and down the steps.

“Yep. Got some Downey ass to kick,” he signature smirk making a brief but welcome appearance. “Hey Chris?” Sebastian called. I stopped and turned back to him. “Thanks for coming by, it means a lot.”

“Anytime, man. If you ever need someone to distract you with vomit, I’m your guy,” I smirked.

“Shut up, you’re an amazing friend and I’m lucky to have you,” he supplied.

I made my way back to my trailer feel light from both the tea and conversation with Sebastian. Glad that he’d been able to get some things off his chest, but now I worried that I’d revealed too much. What if he saw my offer for what it really was, an excuse to be alone with him. I had almost convinced myself that my words and actions were just me being protective, looking out my best friend. But if my experience tonight had proved anything, other than to never again mix beer with tequila, it was that maybe I was hoping that Sebastian’s words meant more than what’d he probably meant them to. _I’m lucky to have you,_ he’d said. In reality, luck had nothing to do with it. If Sebastian really wanted to have me, he could. All he had to do was ask.

 


End file.
